A Deadly Thaw (26 page)

‘Why did you ask me to help you? To hide Andrew in Whitby?’

Lena used the ancient sofa to steady herself. She was tired. Exhausted from lack of sleep, from lying on the floor in a strange flat, from running from everyone.

She’d come back to the house one last time before going to the police. Kat hadn’t been attacked and her desire to protect her sister had overruled any sense she had once had. What a stupid mistake and yet, if she had her time over again, would she do anything differently? It was only now, according to Kat, that victims were getting the support and understanding they needed. It was time to stop running and let the truth come out. In any case, where could she go? Whitby had been her place of refuge, and she’d given it up to protect Andrew, although God knows he’d deserved nothing from her. In doing so she’d ruined another relationship. Daniel was calm, but she could sense a deeper hurt underneath.

‘You were the first person I called. I admired your competence.’

He looked hurt. ‘My competence. Is that all?’

‘I’d just killed someone, and you were the person I thought of to help me. Doesn’t that explain things?’

‘You never gave me any reason for what you’d done. Didn’t I at least deserve that?’

Lena turned away from him. ‘I’m not sure there was a reason. I was thinking and not thinking at the same time. While I was waiting for you and Andrew to get here, I came up with a way of admitting to the murder so their crimes wouldn’t come out. There were all those girls I wanted to protect. You wouldn’t understand and, anyway, things were different then. You got no support when you reported a sexual assault and I don’t think anything had changed in 2004. I wasn’t going to let it all come out. I wanted to preserve the dignity of the victims, which I thought included my sister.’

‘Your sister?’

‘Don’t you see? I wanted to look after my sister.’

‘I
do
see that.’ He looked at her, his eyes blank. ‘So you came to me.’

‘It’s one of the things I’ve always liked about you. No need to explain myself.’

‘He was a rapist. A violent attacker of women.’

‘How did you find out?’

‘You asked me to help you, and I did. I looked after him, helped settle him in a house. Introduced him to my friends. To my family.’

‘You didn’t need to.’

‘I did though, didn’t I? For you. I went the extra mile. I didn’t just hide him, I set him up in a new life. You have to take responsibility for that.’

‘For what?’

‘For me helping him. Because it’s you who introduced the serpent into paradise. You.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘You knew what he was like, and you let me take him into my life. Use your imagination, Lena. What do you think happened?’

All three left the meeting subdued. They instinctively gathered in Sadler’s office, but he didn’t seem keen to pick over what had been said. ‘Let’s call it a day. You two go home. There’s a lot to think about, and I want to review the case from the start in the light of what we now know.’

‘What, tonight?’ asked Connie.

Sadler shrugged. ‘Why not? But don’t you two hang around. There’s going to be plenty to keep us busy over the next few days. Take the rest of the day off. I want to have a think.’

They left Sadler sitting at his desk. He looked disheartened, which gave Connie a feeling of disquiet. She felt the fragile stability that she’d carved for herself over the past couple of years begin to fray. Instinctively her thoughts turned to Palmer. She wondered if he was going to ask her out for a drink. Despite her reservations, she would have said yes. It really had been one of those days. But he’d been cool with her all day. A change in tune from immediately after their tryst in her flat. It had left her feeling confused and vulnerable. She watched out of the corner of her eye as he put on his jacket and left without saying anything to her.

She waited a couple of minutes, and then she too left the station. Back home, she looked around at her tidy flat. There was nothing she didn’t like about being a copper. She’d wanted to join the force since she was fourteen, when a young policewoman had come to give a talk to her school. Most of her friends had been joking both before and after the talk, but, curiously, not while the young officer had spoken, because she had a natural air of authority about her that had subdued even the rowdiest in that large comprehensive school. Being a police officer these days meant having a degree, and Connie had studied sports science at Nottingham Uni simply to get that precious certificate so she could join up after graduation.

One of the first surprises had been the sheer mundanity of some aspects of modern-day policing. Lots of sitting around in cars, dealing with minor infringements, and endless cups of bad coffee. Less surprising was that the young officer who had spoken to her as a teenager was now Chief Superintendent in Derby. Their paths had yet to cross, but when they did, Connie had her speech ready.

The downside was the hours. If truth be known, Connie had few close friends in Bampton. Normally she didn’t mind. When she got home from work, all she wanted to do was have a shower, pour a glass of wine and sit in front of the TV. Socialising was the last thing on her mind, but tonight it was company she needed. She took out her mobile, and her finger hovered over a name. He’d asked her to call him, and it hadn’t felt like a come-on. She pressed the number.

‘Scott here.’ His voice had a tentative tone. He clearly didn’t recognise the number.

She took a deep breath. ‘It’s Connie.’

The voice warmed up. ‘I only know two people called Connie. One’s my great-aunt, and you don’t sound like her.’

‘Is the other a grumpy copper?’

‘That’d be the one. You okay?’

‘Fine. How’s Bill?’

‘Oh, he’s all right. Just about getting over his sulk about misidentifying the body in 2004. You never know, he might have regained his good humour by Christmas.’

‘Good to hear.’ There was a short silence. ‘I’m calling because you mentioned going out for a drink sometime. I’ve had one of those days. You up for something?’

‘Yeah.’ He sounded surprised but pleased. ‘Where were you thinking? I can come to you?’

‘Is that okay? I’m a mix of super-hyper and dog-tired. I don’t trust myself behind a wheel of a car, to be honest. Meet you in the Glass Room at eight?’

‘The Glass Room?’ he sounded dubious. ‘That’s a bit more upmarket than I’m used to.’

‘But it’s big. We can find a table to ourselves and chat without being overheard.’

‘Is this about work?’

Connie hesitated, but, sick of lying, decided that honesty was the best policy. ‘No. I just need a drink with a mate, to be honest.’

The warmth came back into his voice. ‘Sure. See you in half an hour.’

The Glass House was technically a restaurant with half of the tables reserved for diners. Towards the long windows that had given the place its name were comfortable sofas where you could have a drink and chat. Scott was already waiting for her when she arrived. His piercings were in place, but he had clearly made an effort in the time since the call. She could smell lemon soap and shampoo. His hair, curling around the collar of his polo shirt, was still damp at the ends.

Connie plonked herself down next to him on the sofa and checked to see what he was drinking. Peroni beer.

He saw her looking. ‘I’m not used to drinking it out of a glass.’

She smiled. ‘I thought Becks would be more your drink.’

He leant forward to pick up the bottle. ‘I got used to it on holiday in Italy last year. I always have it if the pub is selling it.’

‘Italy? I’ve always wanted to go there. Where did you go?’

‘Rome, Assisi and then Florence. I’m interested in art. I went to as many art galleries as I could. It was wonderful.’

‘Art?’ Connie turned to face him full on. ‘I thought computer games were more your thing.’

‘I like gaming, but also art. They’re not a million miles from each other, you know. When they’re done properly, both can draw you into a world completely different from this one.’

Connie suddenly had an urge to smoke. She touched her pocket to check she’d brought her vape out with her. She hadn’t.

He saw her checking. ‘I’ve got some fags if you’re desperate.’

She grimaced. ‘Couple of drinks and I’ll be snatching them out of your hand.’

‘I tried to give up once. I lasted about four hours.’

Connie sniggered, feeling suddenly much better. She’d forgotten what it was like to go out for a drink with a mate and just chat. Despite the effort he’d made with his attire, he didn’t look like he was expecting anything at the end of the evening. Unlike Palmer.

Reading her thoughts, he put down his bottle. ‘Anything in particular you wanted to talk to me about?’

Connie felt sick. ‘I’ve had a hard day.’

‘Can’t be easy, your job.’

Connie thought to the meeting with Sioned Rhys. Well, she couldn’t tell him anything about that. ‘It’s not just work. I’ve got a bit of a problem, that’s all.’

‘Man problems?’

‘How’d you guess?’

‘You said it wasn’t about work. So my second guess was a man. Is it Sadler?’

‘Sadler?’ Connie coughed over her drink. ‘Of course it’s not Sadler. He’s my boss, for God’s sake. Anyway, he’s not my type at all.’

Scott shrugged. ‘He’s good-looking though. A favourite among some of our female staff. Him and Palmer. Everything stops if those two come in together.’

Connie looked at the floor.

‘It’s not Palmer is it?’ Scott sounded shocked.

‘I know he’s married—’

‘It’s not that. It’s just, well, no offence, but I wouldn’t have had you pegged as his type.’

‘Why not?’ Connie tried to keep the hurt out of her voice.

‘Well, you’re one of us. You know, normal. Palmer looks like he’s come from a fashion shoot. He’s never got any dirt on him.’

Connie looked down at her grey trousers and black boots. The trousers were okay but didn’t fit her that well. She’d bought them in a sale, and the only ones left were a size too big. She’d bought them anyway because of the price. Her boots were scuffed. Not in an embarrassing way, but they could have done with a polish. She looked, as Scott had gently pointed out, ordinary.

‘Is it affecting your job?’

‘Not yet. We slept together just the once.’

‘And now he feels guilty?’

Connie thought back to Palmer’s behaviour towards her that day. ‘He didn’t seem to. He was relaxed about everything, but he’s gone all cold on me.’

‘Well, he is married.’

‘I know. That’s what I keep telling myself. What else did I expect? And the daft thing is that I don’t actually want a boyfriend. I’m happy as I am and don’t want anyone living with me. So the question I need to ask myself is, what exactly do I want?’

‘And what answer do you come up with?’

‘I wish that I’d never gone anywhere near him.’

Mark raced across a darkening Bampton, his foot hard on the accelerator. Kat hunched in the seat and prayed that Lena hadn’t made her way back to Providence Villa. She hadn’t said where she was going. Surely the house was the last place she would go given that she was still wanted by the police. The problem was, if Lena had decided to go to the house, Daniel might still be there.

‘Should I call the police?’

She thought he’d say no, but Mark looked grim. ‘I don’t think we’ve got any choice. I don’t like the sound of this man at all. Lena was convinced that someone was trying to kill her. You have to choose your battles, and I don’t fancy my chances against him.’

Kat pulled out her mobile phone from her bag, but Mark put his hand to stay hers. ‘If there’s trouble, they’re the people to call but I think we deserve at least a head start. Let’s see what we find when we get there.’

When they arrived at the house, dusk had fallen despite the summer hours. They’d spent longer on the moors than she realised, and she felt chilled to the bone. The place looked dark and forbidding. A too-large house falling to bits. It needed selling. ‘I hate this place,’ she said, getting out of the car.

‘You’ve got to wait here. I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you.’

‘Not a chance. This is my house and my family. It’s time some ghosts were put to rest.’

‘This man could be a danger. You’re not going to help Lena if she’s not there but he is. Think about it. Let me go in first.’

Kat halted. ‘What are you going to do?’

‘Do you have your keys with you?’

She pulled out the bunch from her pocket.

‘Which one is for the front door?’ She showed him, and he pulled it off the ring. ‘I know the layout of the house. Give me five minutes. If I’m not back by then, there’s a problem. Call the police.’ As soon as he passed through the gate she could no longer see him. The wait was interminable. After six minutes had passed, she got out her mobile and rang the number Connie had given her in the café.

There were was a loud hubbub of voices. It sounded like Connie was in a bar.

‘It’s Kat Gray.᾽

‘Are you okay?’ The voice was immediately on alert.

‘I’m not sure, actually. I’ve seen Lena . . . look, I can’t go into that now but I think she may be in danger. We think the person trying to kill her isn’t from Bampton but Whitby.’

‘Whitby?’

‘It’s a long story, and there’s not the time now. I’m at our house, and I’m worried about going in there by myself.’ An instinct to protect Mark prevented her from giving out his name or saying that he was already there.

Kat heard a sharp intake of breath down the line.

‘If there’s danger, you shouldn’t go inside. I’m on my way. I’m going to call for support. For God’s sake, stay put, Kat.’

Kat clicked off the phone. The temptation to go to the front door was excruciating, but she didn’t have a key. The path around to the back of the house was overgrown, of course. She’d probably end up breaking her neck if she went that way. As she waited for the sound of the first siren, she heard a movement through the front gate, and Mark appeared. He took her hand. ‘I know I was longer than I said. Did you call them?’

Kat nodded.

‘It’s just as well, but I want you to follow me first. There’s something I want you to see before they get here.’ He took her by the hand and brought her up to the front door, sliding her key into the lock.

The house was silent. It was not the stillness of absence but a deathly hush. Kat backed away. Mark’s hand was on her back. ‘There’s no one here now. There’s something you need to see before the police arrive. I’m really sorry, Kat, but this is important.’

He gently steered her into the living room and drew back the curtains. The light from the spring moon threw a pale light onto the long room. Kat’s eyes took a moment to adjust to the gloom. Mark took her arm again and guided her to the back of the sofa. There, on the floor, was a huddle of clothes.

‘Lena!’ Kat broke away from him and crouched down beside her sister. She was cold with the chill of the recently departed. Lying on her side Lena looked like she was sleeping, her face calm. Only the unusual angle of her sister’s head gave Kat the horrified realisation that this couldn’t be the posture of the living.

She looked up at Mark.

‘You need to see her. Once the police get here, this room, this house, will be sealed off. I want you to see her before they all get here.’

Kat stroked the top of her sister’s head as she’d done as a teenager, all those years ago before the chain of events had started. ‘Why? Why did you want me to see her?’

‘Because I want you to see what she looked like. I’ve known violent death. It preys on your mind. Sometimes the thought of what might have happened can drive you insane. I want you to see what she looks like. Have you seen anyone dead before?’

‘My parents.’ Kat could feel a weight of nausea behind her nose. She was about to be sick.

‘And now your sister. But despite the violence, this is what she looked like. She’s in the house she loved and felt safe in. I want you to try to hold on to the image in the days ahead.’

Kat could hear the sirens, getting louder and louder. ‘We need to leave. The police are here.’

‘We need to stay. You called them. They’re expecting you to be here. If you leave, they might think that you’re in danger. Or perhaps that you were in some way responsible for Lena’s death. We need to stay here and meet them.’

‘We?’

Mark crouched down beside her and lifted her up. ‘Both of us.’